


bliss

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: ASMR, Comfort, Drabble, M/M, Petting/Hair Play, no caps
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-04-13
Packaged: 2019-04-20 17:47:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14266356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: newton's method of rest.





	bliss

**Author's Note:**

> turns out listening to asmr vids at 2am leads to inspiration instead of relaxation

sometimes, when his brain got a bit too much, newt would listen to videos.

you know the ones - people doing weird shit like eating hard candies into a mic for twenty minutes, tapping nails over books and glass balls and trinket boxes, or running makeup brushes over a set of wired -up fake ears.

when his brain needed quiet, when it needed this kind of quiet, newt would plug his earphones into his phone and curl up in bed for an hour, watching half hour videos of people scratching and tapping across various objects and surfaces.

he likes those ones the best. he was never able to get behind the whole eating thing, but the scratching and tapping? it's incredible, almost euphoric;  
the sounds flooding his brain with waves and waves of soft tingles, like someone put one of those vibrating scalp massagers to his head. the sensation overrides his brain, drowning out everything else and forcing the carcophany of his thoughts into silence.

in all honesty, newt's brain can never be truly silent - even at his calmest it's always occupied with _some_ kind of thought, pinging back and forth off of the walls of his brain like a bouncy ball. The tingles drown them out; like covering his rushing thoughts with a thick blanket so he can't hear them anymore, and newt likes that.

it gives him a chance to rest.

  
\-----

  
sometimes, if he could get into it, if he had one of those days where his music or his own voice couldn't provide the right kind of distraction, newt would just be silent, and he would listen to hermann; mostly the scratch of the chalk on hermann's boards, a steady scratch and tap that was perfect at soothing the buzz in newt's brain. he'd simply listen to the simple, repetitive sound all day, until the work day ended or newt's skin started to itch again and his brain changed gears, yearning for metal and pop instead of soft tapping and scratching; whichever came first.

hermann would never question it, either too happy about the peace to risk destroying it or simply too focused on his work to even properly notice. now though, after the war, after the _drift,_ hermann knows. newt _knows_ hermann knows.

and now sometimes instead of the videos, newt lies curled around hermann's good hip; the mathmaticians long fingers carding through his hair and scratching his scalp while he reads.

sometimes hermann reads aloud too; his voice soft and quiet, and his tales of stars and space full of beautiful, beautiful tingles. sometimes he doesn't, simply playing with newts hair until the biologist falls asleep, a low buzzing spreading across his scalp and down his spine like warm honey.

either way, it's bliss.


End file.
